


Rush Fever

by majimarkjin



Series: Hand and Glove [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce is fucking whipped, Clark is just so innocently sexy, Depowered Clark Kent, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Masturbation, Protective Bruce Wayne, Superman Solar Flared, is this counted as shower sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majimarkjin/pseuds/majimarkjin
Summary: In Bruce's defense, he was worried and only trying to help in any way he could. It just so happened that Clark was good at derailing his plans.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Series: Hand and Glove [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001775
Comments: 6
Kudos: 147





	Rush Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where the inspiration for this came from, but here's my favorite ship.
> 
> Happy reading!

Clark solar flared. 

It wasn't surprising anymore, given that it had happened a few times already and usually had some warning signs before it happened. And as always, after it happened, Bruce was there to pick him up.

“It seems that I have to remind you that I'm not your personal driver that can pick you up whenever you solar flare,” Bruce said, wrapping a blanket around Clark's very naked body—his suit had disintegrated during the flare.

Clark grinned lazily at him. It was obvious that he was exhausted, like always after flaring up. “But it's always you who pick me up anyway.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and grunted as he picked the Kryptonian up, strong arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders while his were on Clark's back and under his knees. When they reached the Batplane, Bruce gently placed Clark down on the only passenger seat, putting the seatbelt on before he took his place and done the same thing.

“Rest, Clark,” Bruce said as they made their way to Metropolis.

Clark glanced at him, his eyes full of affection and fondness that made Bruce look away, uncomfortable with so much emotion being directed towards him. Clark smiled knowingly and nodded. “Thanks, B.”

But Clark didn't sleep. Bruce knew because he watched in his peripheral vision as Clark touched everything he could inside the small aircraft, like he always do after the flare. It amused him how fascinated Clark was in everything whenever he loses his powers.

When they arrived at Clark's apartment, Bruce had to tuck in Clark's arms to prevent the Kryptonian from touching anything any further. Clark pouted.

“Clark, you're a grown man. Stop being childish,” Bruce chided, his eyes focused on the path when they got inside, trying to avoid from bumping into anything. But the apartment was tiny and Bruce was a large man. He only stopped for a second when he heard, more than felt, that he bumped against Clark's table, slightly displacing it. He reminded himself to place it back later as he continued making his way to the bedroom, the pouting Kryptonian finally letting go of his grudge as he giggled at what happened. Once they were inside the bedroom, Bruce slowly placed Clark down on his full bed, almost toppling over when the powered down Kryptonian didn't let go of his shoulders.

“Clark.” Bruce gritted his teeth, trying to remove the arms off him. “You need to let go.”

“Don't wanna,” Clark mumbled, his lips accidentally brushing against Bruce's ear, making Bruce shiver.

Bruce's grip around Clark's waist tightened. “Fine. You're showering.”

“But I'm tired, B!” Clark complained, but his hold on Bruce did not loosen as Bruce strode to the bathroom. He still didn't let go when Bruce reached the sink.

“Clark.”

“B.”

“You have to let go. We won't fit in the shower.”

“But you're comfy.”

“Did you just say comfy?”

“I'm not as old as you. I should be able to say comfy without being judged.”

Clark had always been playful when depowered. Bruce sighed, exasperated. “Clark.”

He got no response, but felt the hold tightened.

“Fine. Just–” Bruce gestured his Batman suit. “–let me take this off or Alfred is having my head for dinner.”

Clark looked like he pondered for a second whether he was being tricked or not before his feet slowly reached the floor. He eyed Bruce carefully as he took his arms off from Bruce's shoulders before taking a sit beside the sink.

“Should I help you with removing it or what?”

Bruce grunted before taking his suit piece by piece. It started with the gloves, and then the boots. He was folding his cape when he noticed Clark staring at him, still fully nude if it was not for the blanket that was currently wrapped around his waist.

“You should probably start showering,” Bruce said.

Clark grinned. “Probably,” he said and then proceeded to stare some more.

Bruce shook his head and stopped himself from sighing once again. He continued taking off his armor, from his mask to the many layers on his body until he reached his tights. It was not like this was the first time he was having a shower with Clark nor was it the first time Clark would see him naked, but there was something intimate in taking a shower in Clark's apartment and with the image of Clark staring at him like that. _That wasn't fair._

“Clark–”

“What?” Clark asked, looking at him with those impossibly blue eyes. 

The tone sounded innocent, and Bruce knew that he was—innocent—to some degree. He should not be thinking that there was something intimate in this because Clark was his best friend and he needed his help. That was why he was there in the first place—to help. 

Bruce made a mistake of glancing at Clark. _Damn it._ There was soot all over Clark's body and his hair was in disarray, sticking out to different directions. The blanket that was barely covering him looked even softer against all the hard and bulging muscles.

_How could someone make innocence look sexy as hell?_

“Bruce?” Clark called out.

Bruce realized he was staring. He was about to say some half-assed excuse, but then he noticed the blush appearing on Clark's face and he just had to watch as it reached his neck and chest. _Fuck._

Bruce cleared his throat, but even then, his voice was rasped and demanding. “Shower. Now.”

He wasn't sure, but it seemed like Clark turned a darker shade of red as the Kryptonian stood up from the sink. Slowly, Clark made his way towards him.

“Normal people usually shower without any clothing on, Bruce,” Clark said, his voice a pitch lower than usual, as his hands landed on Bruce's hips, hooking his fingers at the band of his tights. 

Bruce stared at Clark, startled at the advance. When Clark looked at him with a silent question, he merely nodded knowing his voice would fail him.

Clark didn't break the eye contact as he carefully tugged the leggings down and slowly lowered himself too to be able to remove them. The jockstrap that Bruce was wearing was becoming more uncomfortable as he watched Clark kneel in front of him. He was almost relieved when Clark looked elsewhere, but then realized that Clark was staring straight ahead—at the jockstrap that covered his cock.

“Clark,” Bruce demanded than called out. 

Bruce watched as Clark glanced up at him, placing those impossibly strong hands on his ass and squeezing it before pressing his face on his covered cock. A groan escaped Bruce's lips when he felt Clark nosing him, his fingers automatically entangling themselves in those soft curls he often wondered about. He tugged them, gently at first, but then he felt Clark licked him through the strap. His hold tightened, slightly pulling Clark away from him that made Clark whine.

_Fucking hell, Kansas._

“Get up,” Bruce said, taking off the fucking jockstrap to free himself.

Clark, without a missing a beat, stood up. He seemed too distracted by Bruce's half-hard cock that he forgot about the blanket around his lower body. It fell on their feet, leaving him bare.

Bruce's sharp breath was heard at the small confinement of the bathroom. “Jesus Christ.”

Clark had the audacity to grin. “Well, I'm not God, but I bet I can make you feel like you've seen one.”

Bruce growled and pushed Clark to the shower, turning it on to the coldest option before yanking Clark into a ravenous kiss, teeth clashing and lips bruising. Bruce was fucked. He felt Clark's hands touching everything he could, caressing every scar on his body. It was too much for him—too affectionate. He pressed Clark against the bathroom wall and pinned his hands above his head before taking his mouth once again. He nipped, he licked, and he tasted Clark's mouth over and over until they ran out of breath. 

Bruce did not stop there. He moved to Clark's jaw—prominent and sharp—peppering it with open mouthed kisses. He harshly sucked the spot under Clark's jaw, eliciting a soft moan that made his cock twitch. When he was sure he left an extremely noticeable mark, he licked it and kissed it before pulling away.

Bruce looked at Clark and saw half-lidded eyes staring back at him. Cold water rained down on them and he noticed Clark slightly shivering. He turned the knob to switch the cold water to warm before brushing the curls away from Clark's eyes and then he caressed his face.

“Please don't tell me we're stopping now,” Clark deadpanned.

Bruce smirked, his fingers lightly caressing Clark's jaw before he tightly gripped it. “And what if I did?”

“I'm extremely hard right now and you won't do anything about it?” Clark glared, staring straight in his eyes. “What kind of person are you?”

Bruce could not stop the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. “I can't believe boy scout, Clark Kent, is insatiable.”

“I'm not a boy scout anyway and– well, this is your fault, Bruce! You have to fix it,” Clark said, trying to pull Bruce closer, but at the moment, Bruce was much stronger than him and did not budge, making him whine once more.

“The way you rewrite history is unbelievable,” Bruce rasped, taking a step forward as his voice deepened. “But the way you sound is astounding.”

Clark whimpered and pulled him closer, their cocks bumping against each other at the movement. Bruce knew he would never be able to say no to Clark and stay away from him ever again.

Desperate and feverish, Bruce kissed Clark like it was the last time he could kiss him, but he knew it was only the start of the many kisses they would be sharing in their lives. He placed his thigh between Clark's legs and let the Kryptonian rut against him. He grabbed that perky Kryptonian ass and pressed their flushed bodies together. Burrowing his face in Clark's neck, he nosed it and sucked and licked, leaving marks that would surely still be there by morning, before Clark gets his powers back. That thought alone—that his mark would be visible for that long—made him impossibly harder against Clark's muscular thigh.

“Bruce– shit. Bruce–” Clark choked out a gasp when Bruce squeezed his chest. “Wait.”

Bruce pulled away and looked at Clark in worry. He was about to move when Clark's grip on his tightened.

“No, wait,” Clark said hurriedly. “I just– I don't want to come yet and you almost made me.”

“Clark–”

“I want you to fuck me, Bruce.”

Bruce let out a strangled sound at the request. Fuck. If none of the villains would be able to, then this man was going to be the cause of his death. He observed Clark—the flush on his face and body, the redness of his lips, the sincerity and desperation in his eyes—and breathed deeply. “Are you sure?”

“When it comes to you? I'm always sure, B. I completely and utterly trust you with everything I have.”

Bruce was speechless. He was not someone you would call a sap—that would be Clark—but he fucking melted at the admission. 

“Christ.”

“I told you–”

“That you're not God, but can make me feel like I've seen one.” Bruce beat Clark into it. 

Then Bruce turned off the shower and left to get their towels without a word, leaving Clark dumbfounded. He threw a towel in Clark's way and dried himself. He was on his way out when he noticed Clark not moving from his spot. 

“I'm not fucking you in the bathroom, Clark. You deserve more than that.”

Bruce smirked as he watched Clark, still blushing and hard as fuck, scrambled out of the shower to dry himself and follow him to the bedroom.

Clark was no god, but Bruce worshipped every inch of his body anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I could live up to the amazing superbat sex scenes so there we go.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
